Happy Rags and Sordid Riches
by Xatyrn
Summary: Axel is a naive prince of a kingdom he knows little of. One night he catches the infamous thief Roxas stealing from his room. AkuRoku. Robin Hood prompt.
1. Chapter 1

_( **AN** : This is a re-post from AO3, where I am listed as neptunedemon. I'll post all three chapters of this story tonight. If you enjoy it, please consider leaving me kudos over there, too! TY)_

He would catch him tonight.

Ah, yes. It would be simple.

He clutched the knife against his leg as lay in his bed and thought of the delight he would relish in upon his heroism. The prince to capture a thief of his own accord! The kingdom would long for no other proof of his worthiness of the throne after this. Long years had dwindled by with treasures and gold disappearing from the castle; there was plenty of these, of course, that the losing of some didn't stir many, and it had been assumed miscalculation and forgetfulness were the culprits.

After all, the staff were esteemed. The royals were – well, royal. Axel had fathomed thievery himself. He had made note of every item of value in the castle, and watched as week after week something from a room would be lost in the morning.

Starting at the end of the hall, for the past few months he had been paying attention, something had been taken from each adjacent room of the one before, leading down the hall. It happened every few days.

And his room was last on the list.

Axel eyed his door anxiously; the light of the hall leaked in at the bottom, and he watched for shadows to dip into the puddle of light to announce a visitor.

There was a sound. He froze.

 _Click – tap – ting._

Like metal against glass.

It was coming from the window. But was it not locked? For he never opened it. Or he couldn't remember doing so in years – meaning, though, he knew nothing of its locking for sure.

He listened as it creaked open, and the silence of his roomed was sucked through as the sounds of crickets and light gusts of wind poured in. It alarmed him even before he remembered his visitor – the noise was distracting, disarming.

But he focused. The light provided from his door permitted him to see a ghostly silhouette glide past the foot of his bed. He could hardly discern it from the figures of furniture and bedposts, and his eyes strained. The silhouette stopped, and a chill ran through him as he knew the thief's eyes were examining him. He held his breath and kept his eyes open only enough to allow a slim thread of vision.

The figure moved toward his vanity. Why yes! He had placed some unimportant jewelry there as bait.

Quietly as he could manage, Axel rose. His bed creaked in complaint of his weight adjustment, but the sounds from outside helped drown it out, and in one fluid motion he placed his feet on the ground and stood. His body shook slightly with the tightness of his muscles and the lack of breath he'd been taking, but he knew the adrenaline beginning to release would serve him well.

In three large strides, he cleared his room and grabbed the thief by the wrist. The thief gasped and dropped a necklace; Axel wrenched him into his body and closed an arm around his torso and the bends of his elbows. His frame was sleight and he was short. Axel easily had physical leverage over him. He pressed the side of his blade to his throat.

"Wait!" the voice whispered in protest.

"No," Axel hissed in his ear. "Are you not the one who has been stealing from my castle all these years?"

"I am! But let me explain."

Axel gripped him harder to him, and the thief's muscles reflexively tightened.

"I will call in the guards with a single shout, and then the kingdom will know. And you shall be put to death. You have lost."

Axel inhaled to yell out for a guard, but was promptly interrupted by his capture.

"The kingdom already knows. I can explain! Perhaps a fine prince would understand my pleas?"

Axel hesitated. The kingdom knew? Knew what? What was at stake?  
He shook his head.

"You lie," he accused with a growl.

"I do not commit myself to injustices as that," the voice replied. "Let us have light, and look me in the eyes when I speak. I will not escape you if you hear my words."

"You speak as if you could if I refused!"

"Will you not hear me? Your surviving reputation demands it."

Axel pressed the side of the blade harder into the thief's throat, letting the coldness of the metal be a warning, and he felt his breath halt. "Do not speak so plainly, thief," he hissed. "You don't know me."

"I am sorry to offend. But please!"

Axel thought a moment. He should ignore the man. The notions he presented were slathered in trickery and games. Yet his curiosity, he knew for he knew himself so well, would carry with him to the grave.

It may be best to let the thief speak.

"Do you have a weapon?" Axel demanded.

The thief exhaled and his muscles loosened. "Only one, hitched to my belt on my right."

Axel felt him for it, misjudging his size several times and groping his torso and thigh instead. When his hand landed on the handle of a knife, he pulled it from its sheath, and now had two knives in one hand.

"This way," Axel asserted suddenly, pushing the thief forward. "I will light the lamp, and you may have your words. One attempt to escape, and the entire castle will be wakened."

"I do not doubt that would occur," said the thief, bumbling with him through the darkness. Axel wondered how the thief had eyes so accustomed to the dark to have seen about his room.

Not wanting to let his guard down completely until there was light, Axel switched the arm around the thief with the arm that held the knives. With his free arm, he reached into his drawer, found a match to strike, and lit his lamp. The sudden glow of the room hurt his eyes and brought the reality of the situation crashing down upon him in a wave of surprise. Here he held a thief in his arms, a thief he had caught, and he was about to let him plea his case.

He let go and stepped back quickly, knives defensively held out.

Slowly, the thief turned around.

Axel's soul was a constant blaze of adamancy and fire, but his heart was made of much lighter things. It fluttered hard to behold the thief. A beautiful young man, he was. He had hair the color of a sunset's glow and cheeks tinted to accommodate the frustration of the situation. His countenance was outright confident, and he stood straight and firm with the dignity no thief Axel had ever known possessed.

The thief seemed to be aware of Axel's bewitchment, but mistook it.

"I am young, I know. Let that not tempt you in finding my words less appealing."

Axel blinked and cleared his throat to cast away the delusions of his mind. "What is your name?"

The thief grinned. "I am Roxas."

"And have you not stolen from this castle, my home, for years?"

Again, Roxas grinned, and he did so in such a dignified way that Axel felt himself give slightly to the attraction of his features.

"I have. I take the riches the royal family hoards and disperse them to families in-debted mercilessly to tax collectors and to those whom cannot afford but a grain of rice."

"The royal family hoards none!" Axel exclaimed in offense. "Have those people no jobs? There is plenty of work."

Roxas shook his head, smiling amusedly about the room. Axel was uncomfortably aware of the golden and silvery decor it was filled with.

"A widow cannot work with five crying mouths at her feet. A man cannot work for his family when he has no working legs. And when the tax-collectors swear to have not collected the month's dues on their second visit of the week, there is no money left for even those who had saved enough."

Axel stared, wide-eyed and awestruck at the blunt accusations. "But my father, the king, has surely heard of anything like this?"

"Prince Axel," Roxas denoted, and his heart gave a squeeze as the syllables left his lips, "the royal family is selfish and cares not."

The magic left again. "That is near treason to claim! Have you no mind or manner?"

Roxas shrugged. "I am a bringer of justice to those who have earned it. I see no need for accommodations to my character when I make due by just that."

Axel opened his mouth to fire another defense, but Roxas interrupted. "Does MY person matter? Tell me what you feel to these claims. But think upon it first."

Axel narrowed his eyes at him. Roxas stood with his arms crossed, watching Axel with a scrutinizing gaze. He had everything to lose by revealing himself too easily. Perhaps, Axel thought, he should humor him for a while. Maybe something would come of it.

He walked across his room to the open window. Roxas rotated slowly to keep facing him.

He brushed the curtains aside and stared into the night. Distantly, across a river and beyond small clusters of forest, the weak lights of the villages twinkled. Buildings and shops spread for miles around, embedded in the hills and on forest edges and clustering tightly to rivers and streams. The night sky was clear, and the stars seemed to be reflected in the rolling land below.

If he listened closely, he thought he could hear the distant melody of nightlife: a combination of music and voices.

"If what you say is true," Axel started slowly, "then no one is truly happy with the royal family. And when I am king, if I remain ignorant, no one will remember me for anything but another selfish ruler."

"I am no prophet, but I would be inclined to agree."

But Axel struggled with a decision.

He turned and sighed. "I do not want to be forgotten. What would you recommend to make the kingdom at peace?" Roxas watched him closely. He didn't seem quite as joyous at this response of compliance as Axel assumed, though he could not comprehend why.

Axel began to grow uncomfortable under his long gaze. Several times Roxas opened his mouth as if to speak, but then closed it again. His eyes shifted from Axel to the window, where Axel still held the curtains apart. His gaze dipped into the wide expanse of starlit village.

"Okay," he said suddenly. "Why do you not come with me to the village tomorrow-day? And then you can see for yourself the townspeople."

Axel was offended. "Do you think I not traverse my own kingdom?"

Roxas grinned. "Can you truly say you have been to the hamlets bordering the northern forests? Or watched your people at the markets?"

Axel tried to interrupt, but Roxas continued, "How about the shanties home to more people than beds? Have you stayed beyond light falling to witness the way dark brings the evil out in men?"

"I will go with you," Axel interjected sternly. He did not desire to acquiesce the extent – or the lack thereof – of his firsthand accounts with the poor. "But how can I trust you?"

Roxas's expression was that of pleasant pondering, and Axel noticed again the fineness of his composure. But his attitude would not do – he thought his cause so noble, but Axel was hesitant to overlook his entitled manner to justify the hundreds of accounts of thievery. But that left him to wonder several things: one being, why was he so inclined to let this thief have his way? Was it the way he spoke plainly and confidently? Could it be his rhetoric caused him great enough disillusion to be fooled? Perhaps he found alluring the way the thief spoke to him as if they were on the same level. The notion of being taken advantage of by any of these means sat with Axel like something unpleasant in his stomach, and his rising anxiety begged of him to back out of his deal. He gripped the knives in his hand. This certainly would not do –

"Take this," Roxas spoke decidedly, and gently lifted something from around his neck and handed it to Axel.

Axel eyed it warily, for he did not want to be swayed now that he was following his own motives again. But an object at the end of the string glinted in the light of the lamp, and curiosity robbed his focus. He took the necklace.

The string was made of a thin leather band. The pendant at the end was an oyster shell in pristine condition; it was prettier than any of the grey, oily shells discarded from the castle kitchens. This one was pale with tints of green and pink. Around the rim of the shell, it had been carefully encrusted with small, nearly transparent jewels. It was quite lovely and ornate. But how was it to persuade his loyalty?

"That is my dearest possession, given to me by a friend of long ago. She is dead now. But I would trade it for the saving of all the people who have come to rely upon me."

Axel switched his gaze between Roxas and the pendant several times, debating the truth of this. A thief would surely be the most capable liar, but Axel felt no precognitive fear or hesitance beyond what he conjured up of his own will to give up this potential nonsense.

"This friend, what was her name?" Axel asked, eyeing Roxas carefully for any sign of deceit.

Roxas sighed heavily. "I can no longer remember. The burden the emptiness of a name to put to her face is something that I carry with me always."

Axel narrowed his eyes. How odd to not remember a name of someone you claimed to hold dear. "How did she die?"

Roxas's composure slipped gently from its previous rank, but he still held himself up. He closed his eyes and spoke carefully, as if the wrong words would shatter something Axel could not perceive. "Her family was poor with three sons and a daughter, and they sold her. And when I found the man who owned her, he had harmed her so badly she'd died."

Axel listened to the small anecdote in horror of the depravity of it. But he regained himself, and withdrew his extended hand that held the shell and placed it into his pocket. Roxas watched it disappear.

"You are clearly pained by this story. I will put forth faith that you are not simply an excellent performer, and I shall believe you."

Roxas looked eased some, and he regained his former assertive nature. "Tomorrow, after lunch. Say 2?"

Axel nodded, thinking idly of the excuses he would have to make for his own absence and where they should be directed. "And where?"

"Just beyond the royal property, perhaps."

"That will do."

Roxas glanced past Axel toward the window. "I will take my leave, then." Axel backed slowly from the space to give Roxas room to hoist himself out. With his head still inside the room, he shot Axel a smile that wasn't smug or mocking, but rather had the appearance of gratitude. "Thank you, Prince Axel, for bestowing this chance."

And then he was gone.

Axel wanted to run to the window and gaze upon what must be the incredible stunt of him scaling down the wall, but he stalled too long in hesitance of the act, and when he finally came to look over the ledge, there was nothing below but the barren, stony wall.

His body ached, and he only then realized the tension he had been in for so many minutes. Two knives were still firmly in his grip, and he set them on a nearby table and began to stretch out the tight muscles of his hand.

He had let a convict – perhaps a most-wanted person, if the castle knew – escape into the night, with promise of meeting him in solitude the day after. This was highly worth condemnation, but Axel tried to not think of the specifics of the punishments which he had earned. No one would know, and if it turned out he could not trust this Roxas person, then it mattered not any longer – for he had already fled into the night, and whatever fate awaited Axel was of his own doing.

He reached out for the window shutters to pull them close, and as he attempted this, he grasped the latch between the two doors that would lock them together. But he noticed, with a mixture of feelings he did not understand, that it was broken, and he had no choice but to settle on the notion that it had likely been broken a long, long time.


	2. Chapter 2

Axel adorned his most modest clothes that afternoon. Not too modest, for he had to escape royal grounds without questioning. A struggle had broken out in his room as he wondered what village people wore. On all his accounts with them, how was it he could only imagine rags and dirty cloth? Certainly they wore more than that.

He tried to remember what Roxas had been wearing, but found his memory to fail him.

He considered the starkness of his red hair. It would surely set him apart from others immediately. Thus, he decided it best to wear a long shawl and drape the hood over his head. This was best, he realized, for it covered the rest of his clothes a large amount and would help suppress suspicion if he were to raise any.

Axel only had to alert several of his servants that he would be walking and reading in the gardens all afternoon. "I do not want disturbed," he had told them. "If the king inquires for my whereabouts, inform him I shall return by dinner and to not worry."

He hadn't lied a great deal in his life, but the words flowed naturally off his tongue like truths.

He left the castle and journeyed to the meeting place. The end of the royal grounds was simply the other side of the wall and gate that protected the castle. Roxas was there, leaning against the stone wall on the outside and gazing up to the sky.

Axel saw, with a twist in his stomach, that the handsome features of the night before had not been tricks of the light. His features were only complimented by the warm sunny light, and his loose shirt tucked into pants fit to his contours aesthetically, reminding Axel of illustrations and paintings of beautiful men he had seen in his life. His eyes closed, having not noticed Axel, and he breathed with the breeze.

Axel wished he was meeting someone so gorgeous in better circumstances.

He cleared his throat, and Roxas's eyes snapped open and immediately fell to Axel.

"It's you," he stated. He straightened up, eyebrows raised and examining Axel's attire with a smirk.

"I thought I should try to fit in," Axel defended himself.

"No one will notice you. Although covering the hair was a good call." He stepped onto the road that led into town. "Shall we?"

Axel nodded, feeling self-conscious to be so out of his element. He handed a knife to Roxas.

"Here," he said. "It's yours." Axel figured that if the thief was bad news, he was good as dead already. Roxas took it graciously and stowed it away.

Roxas began to walk, and Axel followed; on foot they strolled, and he found it funny he had imagined them riding by carriage. What had he been thinking?

"Where will you take me first?" Axel inquired to attempt conversation.

"To the market, then to some of the hamlets and poorer areas."

Soon, for a lack of common topics of interest, they fell into silence. How awkward – how impolite, even – it felt to give up attempt to speak on both sides. But as Axel cast the occasional nervous glance at Roxas, he noticed he seemed blasé and unaffected by the lapse in speech; it calmed him some, and he turned his eyes upon the forest.

Strange, he thought, for this was the main road for travelling toward the kingdom, yet it drew no sense of familiarity from him. Within the confines of a carriage, had he never taken a moment to gaze out the windows?

The trees bordered the path like thick wooden pillars that held up the dark canopies unfurling above. They cast the ground in pale shadows speckled with flecks of golden sunlight. Thickets of dense shrubbery loaded with leaves and berries threatened to spill into the road.

He let his gaze wander deeper into the under-story: plant life became thinner there and was replaced with a thick matting of decaying leaves and wiry brambles.

He had not realized Roxas had begun to watch him curiously – and when their eyes met, Roxas smiled and turned his head to the sky.

"Tell me, Prince," he said, "but I couldn't help but notice your room faces northeast. Have you ever seen a sunset?"

Immediately, and a little defensively, Axel was inclined to imply he had. Yet much like the sight of the forest, he could not recall ever consciously witnessing it.

His silence was reply enough.

"I see. I only wondered."

Axel did not speak for a few minutes, for he found himself rather embarrassed at this. Spectacles of nature are so commonplace in art and literature. Had he, and many like himself, become fooled into believing they had witnessed firsthand such tributes of the earth?

Axel feared his esteem to dwindle.

"Perhaps," Axel began, "I have not been a village boy, or trekked through miles of forest, or climbed to every mountain peak. But I have met a great many influential people and visited countries miles in all directions."

"I doubt none of that, yet what does such far-sighted vision matter when the land you are to rule is but one mile from home?" When his words didn't provoke an immediate response, he said with suppressed excitement, "You'll see."

They fell back into an uninterrupted silence until the first view of the town was upon them.

The road from the forest merged into a dirt path, trodden and flat with the stamping of carriages and horses. It wound into multitudes of buildings and market stands. Many people were about the town: they shopped, laughed, and loudly talked over one another as they bustled around. Axel could not help but take heed of the lower quality of their garments compared to his despite his attempt to blend in.

Axel had been apprehensive upon their entry; every glance his way felt to be speculative, but Roxas talked cheerfully of the names of places as they walked, unaware of anything strange. Occasionally, a merchant or villager would call Roxas's name and wave happily, and they paid no mind to Axel. Thus, he gradually let go of his paranoia.

Remembering why he was there, he focused on his surroundings, absorbing the ambiance of the village, the way people spoke to one another, the way they shopped.

Roxas had slowed his pace to step beside Axel now, and he had fallen silent, understanding that he needed to process most of the surroundings on his own.

Eventually, buildings became sparse, and they emerged into another small section of forest. They passed carriages and people heading into the town as they walked, many of whom recognized Roxas.

"You are quite popular," Axel admitted at last. They walked over a bridge that crossed a stream; its trickling, spluttering water created a peaceful space for the seconds it was audible. Axel stared ahead, pondering, now a step beyond Roxas, but the realization of this caused him to fall back to him. "Where does this path lead?"

"To a village."

"Yours?" Axel realized he had yet to know where Roxas was from.

Roxas hesitated. "No, not really." Perhaps because he knew Axel would inquire anyway, he continued to explain: "I don't really have a permanent place. I stay with the villagers, but on warm nights like we have now, the trees are not uncomfortable."

Axel was caught somewhere between a shock and a laugh. "No home? But – the trees? However have you come to this?"

Roxas shrugged and fixed his gaze straight ahead. "You understand, I am sure, I have no stable income or job. I live by helping others, and sometimes they help me back."

"And you find yourself happy?"

"What would you suspect?"

A shout from ahead prevented the continuation of this conversation. Roxas's name had been called, and both their heads snapped forward to see the owner of the voice.

A frail, petite girl had spotted Roxas, and she was rushing toward him in excitement. When she met him, she slowed and bowed her head, speaking quickly but graciously, "Roxas, thank you. My son has told me what you left for us, and though you made him promise not to give your name, I knew who had blessed us. We shall not want for weeks, perhaps months!" She took hold of his hand and pressed it to her forehead, bowing partway again. Axel saw she had tears brimming her eyes. "Thank you so much, and be there a favor you ever need, we are always home."

Roxas smiled, and it was not of smugness and pride like Axel found himself expecting based on the men he surrounded himself within the castle; no, Roxas simply looked happy, and he whispered and spoke with the woman of modest things and wished her son well, and promised to see her soon. Before long, she was running – nay, skipping toward the town, a lightness in her step as none Axel had seen someone of her stature to behold.

"Is that someone who has received your aid?" Axel asked once they began their walk again, although the answer was obvious.

"Yes." Smugness returned to his appearance as he shot him a glance. "And you, in a way."

"Ah, yes," Axel recalled, his expression darkening slightly. He wondered what belongings of the royal family had been taken. But he thought of the woman's happiness again and the mention of her son, and the overcast lifted some. Seeing the product of the thievery, indeed, made matters seem less severe – although that _was_ the point of Roxas bringing him here.

He wondered again of the line between right and wrong: perhaps it was not quite such a sturdy boundary as he may have once believed. The more distance he put between himself and the castle, the more that line became murky and distorted, weaving through ideals and imaginings in his mind much as this path weaved through the town and the trees.

Soon they were within the village, and Axel noted, with some shame, that many houses were the size of his room. He was positive Roxas was aware of this, therefore he did not voice it.

Of course many more families greeted Roxas, and like the woman had, several thanked him for recent gifts and favors. To each of these Roxas bestowed such modesty and genuine pleasure at their happiness that Axel could not help let his admiration deepen. There was a unique juxtaposition between the thief who had crept into his room in the concealment of the night's darkness and the gentleman that these people considered their savior. They had so little, these people – rags, rice, and mud-and-stone huts; to the refined tastes of a prince, it was incredible to see such happiness in so hopeless of a place.

He supposed Roxas symbolized much of their hope.

Conflicting thoughts were forming in Axel's mind and falling into the pit of his stomach, weighing him down with every step they took into their day, until finally Roxas suggested they turn back, having seen one part of the town and two villages.

Selfishly, Axel was grateful, for he could not bear the burden of guilt much longer.

Roxas did not pester him for his opinion on the day, and the journey back was weighted in heavy silence. He did not need to walk Axel back through the forest to where they had met in the morning, but Roxas insisted.

When they had finally come to the end of their journey together, it was dangerously near the time Axel had declared he would return.

He found himself unsatisfied with the thoughts whirling in his mind, and the words left him before he really knew what he was to speak: "If I met you here a week from now, could we do this again? I think I should see a bit more of my kingdom."

Roxas's eyebrows raised in surprise, and then he laughed. "Perhaps it is that I have made an impression? If so, I am glad. I was starting to lose hope." Axel's face reddened, but Roxas continued. "I will meet you here the same as today."

He turned to leave, but Axel stopped him. "Hold out your hand," he said, digging for something from his pocket. He pulled out an enclosed palm and proceeded to sprinkle several gold and silver coins into Roxas's hand. He looked about to protest, but Axel spoke first.

"It's for your people." He tried not to sound sheepish, yet he found he could not meet Roxas's eyes. "So you don't have to come into the castle tonight."

Roxas closed his fist around the money without further protest. Though it was unspoken, Axel felt a silent confirmation between them that he had intended to thieve that night.

He bowed slightly, bid him a quiet farewell, and entered the forest, Axel watching him until the shadows of the trees engulfed him completely.


	3. Chapter 3

Axel did not know what he would name his favorite part of the months that followed.

Once a week, he ventured into the kingdom with Roxas. And each time, Roxas managed to show him some new spectacle. The talent and ingenuity of the kingdom's people surpassed what Axel had ever been aware common folk were capable of, and the prejudices of his past nauseated him. They made life efficient and sustainable on little, and their spirits rarely faltered. They held celebrations and festivals to ensure the communities remained close-knit, and these were grand in a way Axel had never been familiar with the word: they were not adorned with the most expensive and exotic decor and foods, but rather were woven of the intricacies of all who attended. Everyone contributed food and game and people volunteered their musical and artistic talents, and the atmosphere was always soothing and lacked the preening eyes of the royal and rich.

It grew to the point that Axel found himself bored by the tediousness of preparations for castle parties and the repetitiveness of balls.

But then there was the nature. No high view from a castle window or balcony was quite as enchanting as complete immersion within the forest, with a barely extant breeze maneuvering through the trunks of trees and the cold water of a stream rushing past ankles.

Roxas had laughed at how Axel struggled to keep from slipping on the smooth stones of the riverbed; when his balance was nearly lost, Roxas had grabbed his hand, and Axel's heart had jumped to his throat. He thought he saw Roxas falter too.

Maybe his favorite part was the day he had warned the castle he would not be back until late, for Roxas wanted to take him to the top of a hill and surprise him with something after sunset.

As Axel had suspected, the surprise was the sunset – it did not fail to impress. But his attention did waver from it, and he wondered if he had begun to find disinterest because of his shallow upbringing, or because of the way the refracted light changed how shadows fell across his companion's features was more captivating. If not that, perhaps it was the way the breeze was stronger on the hilltop overlooking the kingdom, and it chilled them enough that Axel wondered if it was his duty to close their distance to keep warm. He hadn't, in the end, and they remained separately cold. The idea, though, occupied him well after the sun had disappeared.

There was also a nasty side-effect to this new hobby.

Axel learned the royals – those of his own bloodline and those visiting from afar – were distasteful. They complained of trivial matters of clothes and jewels, they gossiped of one another, they compared garments incessantly, they laughed at the common-folk, and they were cruel to their servants. Axel watched himself grow more distant from this behavior. When he remembered he had once been like them, it was like remembering a dream: that could not have been the real him, but something hollow and simple that echoed the actions and words of others, and it had only looked like him as he watched from afar, trapped from his body.

He expressed this to Roxas one day.

"I think you were always different, though," Roxas had answered. Axel ignored the way the words tugged at his heart, denying that it was meant as a compliment.

"I see it otherwise," he countered dully.

Roxas tilted his head slightly to the right. His gaze was distant in that way that Axel knew his mind had a thousand thoughts and he was trying to pick the right one to voice.

Finally, he spoke. "I think I knew you were different the moment you agreed to meet me that first night."

He had wanted to believe him badly. For the sake of all that was good and all that he now knew the kingdom deserved, he wanted to.

Spring passed to summer passed to autumn, and the King grew ill.

Axel's annoyance with the way his father led the monarch had fully bloomed by now, but the ferocity of it retreated at the notion of his health. Things were not looking well for him; belatedly, Axel recalled what this meant for him.

The fear that overcame him at the realization of his time for rule being upon him nearly outweighed the despair for his father. There would be such a mess to clean up if he wanted to do anything the way he now saw fit. To carry out any of his wishes surrounded by the rest of the castle would be hard-won, but if he gained the acceptance of the kingdom, there would be hope.

When Axel met Roxas at the end of the week, he had already heard the news about the King.

"I am sorry," he said immediately upon their meeting. "I heard the King is ill. This must be a hard time for the royal family."

Axel smiled bleakly at this polite gesture. "It is, I suppose. I mean, my mother is dead, and I have no siblings. But I have aunts and uncles and cousins, and they are taking it hard, I suppose."

Roxas eyed him suspiciously. "And you?"

He sighed. "I am distraught. But he was a poor ruler. And I have to take his place."

"Surely he taught you to be a king," Roxas stated. "Will you not simply use his guidance?"

This surprised Axel. He looked at him with incredulous disbelief plain on his face. "Is that what you think?"

Roxas glanced from him to the ground a few times, for some reason struggling to hold his gaze to Axel's. "What else am I to assume?"

That stung, and as Axel explained himself, his voice wavered slightly as his composure threatened to slip. "After all you have showed me, do you think I am awful enough to not be taken by your lessons?"

Roxas shrugged and turned to start their walk. "You never said anything like that. And these aren't my lessons."

Axel trailed after him, annoyed by his ambiguity. "But I have been giving you money for those people –"

Roxas cut him off with a laugh. "So I would not have to resort to breaking into your room as you slept, if I recall?"

"You must know my intentions by now. I wish to be a more selfless ruler than those before me."

They walked several moments in silence, Roxas thinking things Axel could not guess, and Axel wondering once again whether or not he really understood himself as he claimed.

"I am glad to hear you say these things, Prince," Roxas broke the silence. "You will rise to the occasion."

After that small conversation, Roxas's disposition seemed to change, although Axel was afraid to admit it. It could be his hopeful imagination, after all. But that evening Roxas laughed a little more openly, their hands brushed more often, and his gaze lingered across Axel so much that he realized Roxas had often avoided doing so before.

Axel was so distracted by these new developments that when the end of their day together arrived, he forgot to give Roxas the usual money.

* * *

Three nights later, he was stirred awake by the unsettling sound of something shifting in his room. At first he was quite alarmed, but as his tired thoughts collected, he let his eyes sift through the dark in search of the person he expected to see.

Sure enough, a familiar silhouette was outlined against his window. The window was partially open, and the stagnant air of his bedroom had been replaced by the crispness of the outdoors.

He held still, waiting to see what Roxas would do, but he simply leaned against the window. It became discomforting that Axel could not tell what his intentions were, so finally he whispered, "Roxas?"

The figure stiffened.

Axel sat up in his bed. "I neglected to give you the usual money," he stated, hoping to let Roxas know he did not judge him for his presence.

Roxas chuckled slightly. "Yeah, I know. And every night since I have come, and each time I cannot manage to take even a grain of rice."

Axel was quite surprised to hear Roxas had been in his room every night – and he hated himself, but he could not say he was more displeased than he was disappointed he had not woken up on any of the previous nights. Axel reached to his bedside table and lit the lamp there.

He could now see that Roxas's arms were crossed, and he stared despondently at the floor.

"You could have waken me."

Roxas shook his head. "I knew that, but that idea felt too odd."

Axel stepped out of bed and walked to lean against the wall next to Roxas. There arms brushed, and he tried not to be concerned when Roxas shivered away from the touch.

"What do you presume to be the cause of your hesitance, then?" Axel asked. "For we both know you have done this for years."

Roxas looked up to meet Axel's eyes, and Axel swallowed back the well of feelings that rushed him upon their gaze meeting. The lamp's light flickered across the room, but near the window they remained mostly shrouded in shadow, with only weak moonlight reaching in from outside.

"I do not think I can take from you anymore," Roxas declared. He spoke with such a matter-of-fact tone that Axel was caught off guard to the meaning of the words.

He stuttered over a response and damned himself for it, because Roxas took advantage of his hesitance to turn and begin lifting himself from the window.

"Wait!" Axel managed at least, and grabbed Roxas's wrist. With one leg hitched over the windowsill, Roxas froze, waiting.

"It's okay," Axel continued, at a loss for words but desperate to reassure Roxas, if anything to just keep him here a little longer. "I don't mind, I want you to. I will give you –"

Roxas roughly pulled from his grip. "I can't take from you anymore," he repeated, his tone angry and jeering. He hoisted himself out into the night.

Axel waited awake for him the next night, but he didn't come. Nor the night after that, and Axel was left to assume he would have to wait until their usual meeting two days from then.

He used the time to restlessly consider everything about the last several months.

He knew what he wanted to say when he arrived at the end of the royal property at the usual time. He was early by several minutes, for he had only paced the day away until the afternoon had arrived and could bear the enclosure of castle no longer.

Yet Axel continued to pace out on the grounds, unable to hold himself still. He nervously glanced at the sun beginning to lower into the sky. He pulled his shawl in tighter around him, as the autumn chill was strengthened by the sun's fall. Every few seconds he cast his gaze into the forest, expecting Roxas to emerge from within at any moment.

He tried to deny the passage of time at first, but the minutes eventually dwindled into a full hour.

Fearful doubts had been clawing inside Axel's stomach all day, but he swallowed hard, trying to suppress them a while longer, and he took off into the forest of his own accord. If it were that Roxas was late today, they would cross paths, and it would be quite funny and all would be well.

The forest seemed darker without someone by his side. Strange sounds could no longer be excused as the scuffling of someone next to him, and he found himself constantly double-taking at elongated shadows and the descent of colored leaves.

A small inkling of desperation was tangible in himself now, and he did not want to start acting on frantic impulses. Thus, when he entered the village, he debated whether he should continue. And that's when he saw her and an idea struck him.

The girl that had greeted Roxas on their first journey out was buying apples at a fruit stand not far from where he stood. She still had a delicate demeanor about her, but she no longer appeared frail on her feet. She spoke through a light smile as she made small talk with the merchant, piling fruits into a basket.

Axel rushed over, struggling to conceal his excitement and interrupting their conversation. "Ma'am," he said, and she immediately turned her head in surprise of being addressed. "Can I speak with you?"

She hesitated, squinting her eyes a bit to try to see Axel's face underneath the hood of his shawl. He defensively drew away from her stare, but pleaded, "Please, just a moment."

The girl glanced down at her basket of fruit. "Umm, I–"

"Here," he interjected, and dropped a few coins in front of the merchant. The merchant's eyes widened as he snatched up the amount, and Axel hastily steered the girl away from the table with her sputtering confused gratitude but protesting the act. "I have money, let me pay you back."

Axel waved his hand impatiently. "It matters not. Tell me, you know Roxas?"

Her eyes widened. "I do! Is he okay?"

"What is your name?"

"Namine," she answered. She tried to examine him closely again, standing on her tiptoes to look into his eyes. "You're the man that was with him months ago. You had a familiar look about you then, and you still do. What is your name?"

"Do you know where Roxas can be found? Or can you find him, at least?"

Namine thought a moment, but continued eyeing him suspiciously, not satisfied with his avoidance of her question. "I might be able to, yes."

"Can you tell him that I need to speak with him? Describe me and he will know who I am. Tell him to come the usual way, and after that he never has to see me again, if he so wills it."

At this, Namine was struck with a look of alarm, and she took a step back. "Are you to hurt him?"

"No, no," Axel shook his head impatiently. "Just tell him that for me, please? And if he doesn't want to see me, then at least –" he pulled something from a pocket and held it out to her. It was the pendant Roxas had given him months ago as proof of his honesty; Namine took it with care, and the surprise of her expression told Axel she recognized it. "Then he can at least have this back."

Namine was at a loss for words. Her mouth hung open slightly as she waited for syllables to come, but Axel already felt ridiculous and did not want to wait any longer.

"Please, it is important he gets my message. Do this for me." He quickly bowed and turned on his heel, his shawl swooping around him so fast that it rose into the air, and Namine glanced at a sheathed knife against his waist; the hilt of the knife was embedded with the royal family seal. Her eyes widened, clutching the pendant to her chest. Axel would have been relieved to hear the faint whisper that left her lips: "I will."

* * *

How long does a rational prince hold onto hope?

Even when there is nothing to signify a cause for hope? No whisper on the wind to hint of the future? No intuition gnawing at one's stomach? No previous occurrences to justify a desired fate?

Axel was not sure, unless desire itself was strong enough to evoke a particular fate. If that were the case, he had nothing to worry about, and time would deliver to him what he longed for.

Sometimes he doubted his intentions and resorted to panicking at the thought of the arrival of the person he waited for. If suddenly he had nothing to say to him, it would be quite awkward – yet he could surely find some words of closure to make it seem worthwhile.

It did not help to be so conflicted while the castle talked constantly of the pending death of his father. He had been raised on the notion of his father dying, but despite this, he found discomfort in his easy acceptance of it. It made him question his morals even more than he already was.

He was resting on his bed, attempting to calm the tempest of confusion raging in his mind by delving into the pages of a book, when he heard a small thud and what sounded like the creak of rock groaning against the exterior of the castle adjacent to his room.

His heart immediately hopped into a series of strong beats that knocked the wind out of him, and paranoia gripped him, though he did not really understand why. Perhaps the reason was that it was midday, and he only ever accepted the idea of someone crawling into his room during the concealment of the dark.

Regaining his mobility, he tossed his book aside and ran to the window, pushing it open. The breeze was strong that day, and it tore into the room and blew his curtains around him in a wild, frivolous manner. He heard papers tossing around in the space behind him like a flock of frightened birds.

He leaned over the edge of the window and looked down.

Roxas clung to the side of the building, fingers gripping where the stones jutted out a bit. It was dizzying to witness with how high up they were, and Axel felt his stomach drop as he imagined the distance below.

With wind-whipped hair and clothes billowing, Roxas met his eyes with a grin. "Why, hello, Prince," he said, and heaved himself up to grip the edge of the sill. All doubts Axel had begun to accumulate vanished upon seeing him. It was like his mind had been submerged within a thick fog with curling tendrils misting into every section of his brain, but was now suddenly lifting as the sun broke across the horizon and pulled the murk into the sky. But first– Axel quickly glanced around at the grounds below. No guards were visible.

"Are you insane?" he hissed, grabbing his hand and helping him in the rest of the way. Roxas landed on the floor with practiced grace and began to adjust his clothes and pat down his hair.

"Every 12 hours, the guards who do patrols around the castle leave a blind-spot on this side of the building. At noon and midnight."

Axel gaped at him for a moment, amazed even now he was learning more about the calculations required for what Roxas did. But he remembered that he was here, with him, and for all his excitement, words were evading him.

"You wanted to speak with me?"

Yeah, he had, right? Axel tried to clear his thoughts, running his fingers back through his hair to bide time. How often had he rehearsed what to speak? But now there was nothing in his mind but joy at the sight of the person before him. He glanced upon the pendant around Roxas's neck.

"Namine found you," he commented.

"Hm?" Roxas hummed. "Oh, yeah." He touched the pendant and closed his eyes, smiling dreamily. "Did I ever tell you the rest of the story about the girl who gave me this?"

"I don't believe so," Axel answered, and wondered why he had never asked.

"When she was taken, I fled my own home. I spent many months searching for her, and I had to resort to stealing to survive. But I stole from anyone back then. And I don't know when it was that her name left me. I just know I found the man that had bought her and could only use the name of the village she had been taken from to identify her. When he told me her fate, I was overcome with so much rage and grief…"

Roxas's voice trailed off. Axel wondered if this was all, and as he opened his mouth to reply, Roxas continued, "But one day, I watched a family I stole from be visited by tax collectors. And when they reached into their money pouch and found it lacking, the collectors flew into a rage. They beat the husband of the household and drug their only daughter away as payment."

"My god," Axel breathed, horrified. Had this happened in this very kingdom? It still remained hard for him to believe the depth of the terrors in the world, but he found the urge of denial had long left him.

"After that, I began stealing from the rich to give to the poor to ensure that no family or person should ever suffer like that again."

"That's… tragic but –" Axel searched for the right words, but was there anything that could truly have meaning coming from him? One of the rich?

Anger suddenly flashed across his expression, and Roxas clenched his fist around the pendant. "So at the cost of all these previous lives, why is it so hard for me now? Why should my attachment to you hinder me doing what is right?"

Despite himself, a flicker of something akin to happiness stirred within Axel, but he tried to not let it show. "I told you I will change things, I will –"

Roxas shook his head in annoyance. "When your father dies? When will that actually be?" Axel winced at this, but Roxas continued. "And even so, it won't be easy. How will you actually implement change worthwhile? I have seen so many false promises delivered on behalf of the monarch, it's so hard to – it is just –" his voice quivered and he let it dissipate. Exasperated, he let his hands fall to his sides and backed into the wall.

Axel took a breath. "So you have shared with me that, and I thank you. But may I give my reasons for summoning you?"

Roxas nodded, grinning weakly. "I assumed you wanted to beg me to take money or something. That is why I told you what I just did. I am too weak and pathetic to accept anything from this castle now."

"Because of your attachment to me?"

Roxas's face reddened and he looked away. "Something like that. It sounds stupid, I know."

Axel shook his head gently. "I find myself burdened with attachment too, you see."

His color deepened, but he kept his gaze averted. "I doubt that. You may think so, but it is the excitement I brought to your life that you love."

Axel was taken aback by this. So Roxas had suspected his feelings but denied them so easily? But Axel had thought about this for a long time.

"It is rather the other way around, I think."

Roxas stole a glance at him, eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I have troubled myself over the idea that perhaps my love for what you have showed me has not been because of the goodness of my heart, but rather the goodness of yours."

Roxas's eyes widened. "But you –" he tried, but words failed him. He could not find an argument.

Though it did not matter. "Do not bother with protest. I have thought this over for so long I feel my heart may give out."

Roxas hesitated. "What does this mean, coming from you?"

Now that it was already out, the words flowed more easily than Axel had ever imagined they would. "I have loved you so long now, Roxas. And you have showed me sides of the world – both darker and lighter – than I have ever known to be. And though I fear my love for charity and justice is only empowered by your presence, I have decided it won't matter if you are beside me always." Axel reached for Roxas's wrists, and Roxas allowed him to take hold of him and pull him closer. All the while, he watched him in amazement. For once, it seemed that Roxas was completely at a loss of what to expect, and it cast innocence over his features that made Axel's soul nearly sing. "And then you will no longer have to take from me, because what I have will be ours to give. Together, under our rule, no one for miles shall suffer, and may I add that I believe neither shall we."

Somewhat overcome, Roxas only managed to lean his forward into Axel's chest as he spoke, his voice shaking. "I must say I did not expect this upon coming. I find myself with few words I can manage, despite you deserving so much more. So I hope you can take my word for it that I am elated, overjoyed, and I know that you are good at heart on your own, and I have known since the moment you first told me you wanted to be a selfless ruler. That was when I knew my feelings were beyond return, and I loved you, too."

Axel leaned down to gently kiss the top of his head. "And so you accept my proposal?"

"I do."


End file.
